Perhaps I do their intelligences too much honour--yet, to me, it seems such an obvious course."' La Boulaye grew cold with apprehension.

Yet impassively he asked: "But what of your men who are guarding the frontiers ?" "Pooh! A detour might circumvent them.

The Marquise might go as far north as Roubaix or Comines, or as fair south as Rocroy, or even Charlemont.

Name of a name, but it is more than likely!" he exclaimed, with sudden conviction.

"What do you say, Caron ?" "That you rave," answered La Boulaye coldly.
"Well, we shall see.